


the sun also sets

by summerstorm



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Gen, Hugs, friendly kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:32:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Lately, it always feels like he's supposed to be doing something, things he can't even remember at the time</em>. Set during the Idol tour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sun also sets

**Author's Note:**

> For kradam_kiss over on LJ.

As soon as the driver drops him off at the back of the arena where the Idol tour's hitting today—he knows where he is, but since he started working on the album, remembering the specific names of these buildings has fallen low on his list of priorities—there are about eight people all up in his space, dragging him places like he's late late late instead of just having arrived a few sets in. It's all in his schedule, anyway, and there are maybe half a dozen people here who have a copy of it. They should be prepared for this sort of thing, and by 'prepared' Adam means 'not on the verge of a fucking panic attack'.

They calm down eventually; he's actually a few minutes early, and once they notice that the world seems to slow down and begin to live and let him live again.

He should probably join the others in the lounge room, but he's wired from the flight and one of the worst recording sessions he's had all summer, so he finds an empty dressing room instead. He figures he can calm down before he snaps at someone who doesn't deserve it, and it's not like they need him there. Besides, he feels like there's something else he should be doing. Lately, it always feels like he's supposed to be doing something, things he can't even remember at the time—talk to this or that producer, call someone who may or may not have anything to do with anything he's doing right now, call someone _back_, catch a flight, update his calendar, ask his handler to get him some essential he forgot to pack or ran out of or doesn't have time to go shopping for. He's never had this much difficulty keeping track of his own plans. Just last night, Lil had to remind him that he wanted to call his _mom_.

It's been such a rollercoaster lately, and he wouldn't change it for the world, but there aren't enough hours in a day to deal with everything and absorb it, too.

He's shut his eyes, trying to remember if there's actually a fucking reason this time why he feels like he should stay conscious and ready to run, when the door clicks and swings open to reveal Kris's concerned face. And raised eyebrow.

Adam says, "Hey," and turns back to the mirror, crouching to lean his forearms on top of the dresser. He notices Kris moving behind him in the mirror, barely a blur, and it's the noise he makes as he goes that lets Adam know when Kris has plopped down on the couch opposite the dresser, both the room and the mirror too small for Adam to see much of his surroundings while basically facing a wall.

"You can't possibly be stressed out this soon," Kris says. "You're the one who knew what he was getting into."

He looks good, at least. Could look better—he should pick a diet and stick to it already, and there are a few freckles showing through his foundation near his ear, which he needs to fix before he goes on stage, and he could use an eyebrow wax, but he's enjoying all of this. He hopes that shows. It's not like he's thinking about how much he'd appreciate a long day off to take care of himself when he's on stage. It's not like the audience will be thinking about that either, hopefully, if Adam's any good at what he does, and he's confident he is.

"I didn't know what it would be like exactly," Adam says, "but I'm fine."

The couch screeches when Kris stands up and takes his weight with him. "You've locked yourself in a dressing room and keep staring at the mirror," Kris says. "That doesn't spell out 'fine' to me."

Adam laughs, and feels Kris's presence getting closer. It's funny how just him being there—being close, _existing_—sometimes makes everything else feel more grounded. Easier to absorb and understand. Easier to be _aware_ of whatever the fuck's going on at any given time. They should bottle that up and sell it, call it Southern Comfort or something. Spray on pillows for maximum comforting effect.

Not that Kris would be into that, but maybe Adam should swing the idea by somebody else—

"You're overthinking, then," Kris says matter-of-factly. "Which leads to stressing out. And someone once told me being nervous before a show translated into energy during it, but stress turned into irritability and things going wrong and—oh, hey, weren't you the one who told me that?"

"With an extra few choice swearwords, as I recall," Adam says. "And I stand by it."

"Yeah," Kris mutters in the vicinity of Adam's ear, and then his arms are around Adam, palms crossing over his chest, head burrowed lightly in Adam's shoulder. It's a quiet, still hug, the kind of hug Kris gives when it's about calming people down and not squeezing them to death. When it's planned and about the other person. Adam's kind of proud of how easy it is for him to read Kris through his _hugs_. He knows Kris thinks himself horribly easy to read in every which way, especially if you look at his face, but that's all a ridiculous lie. His hugs is where it's at.

Adam cups Kris's hands with his own over his chest, aware of Kris's steady breathing blowing along the skin of his neck, light and warm and perfect. Then he feels Kris's lips on the bottom of his neck, a firm, dry kiss followed by a few barely-there ones over the fabric of his sleeve down to Adam's shoulder, and then Kris unwraps him in the not fun way, clearing his throat as he disentangles himself from Adam's hold and takes a step back.

Before he walks out of the room, he smacks Adam's ass with the same ease as most of Adam's friends. He says, "Loosen up, man," and Adam feels knots he wasn't even aware he had in his muscles begin to come undone as he blinks at the mirror and lets out a deep breath.


End file.
